Chapter Twelve
Holly tested her limbs. She felt bruised and battered, but everything still seemed to work. Cautiously she stood up in the dark and felt around her.
To her back was rough stone. Beneath her feet, the ground was dry and slightly sloping. There was another faint rattle of pebbles underfoot as she turned: they were falling away downhill. Holly froze lest she should follow.
As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she realised that it was not as pitch black as she had at first thought. Above her head was a small, ragged patch of light. That must be where she had fallen through, although it did not do much to illuminate the cavernous dark around her. It was as if the earth had opened an unexpected giant mouth and gulped her in; but it had not yet completely swallowed her.
Holly fished in her pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. With relief, she saw that it was still working. Her relief turned to dismay when she realised that there was no signal. She was too far down.
But at least the phone provided a little more light. By its white gleam she saw that she was in a deep, steep-sided cavern, although she couldn’t tell if it was natural or man made. Tunnels snaked away into the dark on either side. They might have been carved by ancient water or by ancient hands; in either case, she didn’t feel inclined to follow them.
She looked up at the roof. There was no way she could see of climbing up those stony walls.
“Help!” she yelled. It immediately struck her as a foolish thing to do. The earth seemed to swallow up her voice; and anyway, who was going to hear her shout, down here?
But somebody – or something – had heard her. From the shadows there came a faint, muffled snarl.
Holly’s head whipped round. The growl seemed to have come from the sloping tunnel to her right. A dreadful idea struck her like a blow: this was the wolves’ hide-out.
This was where they’d been coming from, and where they’d run back to. It explained why the pack seemed to just disappear off the face of the moor.
Which would mean the wolves were down here with her...
She sidled over to the tunnels on her left, trying to move as quietly as possible, using her phone as a torch. There was a meeting of three tunnels here. One was blocked with fallen earth and rock. The next looked open, so she tried that one; but a little way in, the stone walls narrowed drastically. She could not wriggle through the tiny gap. There was no escape this way.
And now she heard the snarl again, distinctly.
It was not Doofus. Doofus never made a sound like that. It must be a wolf.
The phone went dark, and this time she did not try to wake it up again. Instead she pressed herself into the narrow tunnel as far as she could, huddling against the unyielding stone, trying to make herself small. She was trapped in utter darkness, and something was there with her.
She heard the faintest scuff of feet upon the ground. Her hair stood up on end. There was the soft brush of a body against the tunnel wall: higher than she would have thought.
A big wolf, then. Huge. Holly stared wide-eyed into the dark, trying not to stir, desperate to see and desperate not to. A rank, sour, thick smell filled her nostrils. It was the scent of blood. She felt the vibration of slow, silent feet. It must be heavy.
Yet it moved almost without noise. Now it was so near that she could hear it breathing. Now she could feel its breath, a movement of warm air on her face. It smelt. She closed her eyes against the darkness.
For the third time, she heard the snarl, right by her cheek.
And then, away beyond it, came a howl.
With a rush of air, the unseen creature turned. Fur grazed her face: for an instant, a heavy body pressed against her arm and shoulder as it swung round.
Then it was gone. She heard it move away, following the howl back into the main cavern. The pressure in the tunnel seemed to lessen.
There was another, louder howl, echoing through the tunnels, and hard on its heels came a deep and dreadful growl: almost a roar. Then there was a snap, a series of sharp, yelping cries, the sound of scurrying feet – and silence.
Holly stood silent too, but both her heart and mind were racing. What had she just encountered? What wolf could possibly be big enough to breathe into her face, and press its flank against her shoulder?
She seemed still to feel its weight; and that brush against her cheek. Its coat had not felt rough and hairy, as she would expect a wolf’s to be. It had felt more like fur.
Where was it now? Carefully she eased herself out of her crevice and tiptoed back into the cavern.
The dim light through the roof showed her that the space was empty. She could not hear a sound. The animals must have gone down the third tunnel, directly opposite her; and in that case, that surely must be the way out. After all, the wolves were unlikely to have fallen in through the same hole that she had. They must have their own, less painful entrance.
The rank stench of the creature she had just met lingered in the still, cool air. She did not want to venture down the third tunnel.
But she would have to. There was no other way out. And if she hung around here, wasn’t whatever-it-was just as likely to find her?
So, ignoring the thumping of her heart and the weakness in her limbs that said stay here, she made herself enter the third tunnel.
Within three metres, it was so dark that she needed to switch on her phone again. As soon as she did so, a shadow rushed at her out of the dark and leapt up at her, throwing her back against the wall. Holly cried out.
But teeth did not tear at her. Instead, something was licking her, nuzzling a dark head into her stomach. It did not smell of blood, but of Value Doggibix.
“Doofus!” breathed Holly. “Oh, Doofus. Am I glad to see you.”
And, falling to her knees, she wrapped her arms around his strong black neck. She had never wanted to hug Doofus before; now she didn’t want to let him go.
It was Doofus who at last pulled free of her and began to trot down the tunnel. Holly followed. She trusted him. And sure enough, there was a new glimmer of daylight just a little way ahead.
But Doofus stopped before they reached it. An opening ran off to their side, dark and deep. The air here stank. Doofus stood perfectly still, pressing against Holly’s legs to stop her moving, and she understood. Down there was where the wolves were; or the other thing that she could not name.
Eventually Doofus stirred. He nudged her forward. A dozen more steps, and she could see a thin slit of sky above her. She was in a steep trough – but not too steep to climb. She scrambled up uneven stones and hauled herself on roots and grass, until at last she stumbled out into welcome daylight. The newly risen sun shone in her face, so dazzling that she could barely see. She shut her eyes, in relief as much as anything.
So she did not expect the heavy hand that fell upon her shoulder, nor the angry shout right in her ear.
“Got yer! Yer young hooligan, what have you been doing to my sheep?”
Doofus, Dog of Doom Page 12
